


Never Gonna Let You Down

by Ladybug_21



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels Are Very Bad At Temptation As A Rule, In Which Aziraphale Unintentionally Invents An Internet Phenomenon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 16:16:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19833856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladybug_21/pseuds/Ladybug_21
Summary: Aziraphale, as it turns out, is extraordinarily bad at executing Crowley’s demonic tasks for him.





	Never Gonna Let You Down

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a comment from [april_rainer (tom_bedlam)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tom_bedlam) after I complained that the relevant song was stuck in my head all morning ("I'm pretty sure Aziraphale was trying to do malicious and it sort of worked"). I own no rights to _Good Omens_.

In retrospect, Crowley could have been a _touch_ more specific in his instructions.

"It's just cyber temptation, easiest thing in the world," he says flippantly. "You'll figure it out."

"Yes, but I don't have any books on computing on hand," Aziraphale protests.[1]

"Right, no, you don't need anything like that," sighs Crowley. "Just, think of the worst thing imaginable, and then tempt someone into putting the computer link to that thing in a bunch of really unexpected places. Sort of distraction that, once accidentally viewed, will drive people to complete and utter madness, as they try not to be drawn in by it."

"If it's all so easy, why can't you take care of it yourself?" Aziraphale grumbles petulantly.

"Believe me, if I could avoid doing another bloody PowerPoint presentation for Beelzebub on my latest mass temptation, I would. But I'm behind on work, as it is. And you _owe_ me for all of the miracle-related help I gave you, with the printing and delivery deadlines across the entire country for that bloody book."[2]

"Fair enough," pouts Aziraphale. "Well, good luck with everything Downstairs."

If Crowley is honest with himself, he really enjoys his time-saving arrangement with Aziraphale. It's strangely _rewarding_ getting to take care of a few of the angel's miracles, seeing the sheer gratitude and wonder of those who witness and benefit from them. And then there's the endearing fact that the angel is virtually incapable of doing anything genuinely evil. Any task that Aziraphale completes for Crowley's convenience always comes with a gentle edge of redemption—a promise that the worst temptation might be resisted, that the most heinous offense might be redeemed.

Crowley hates to admit it, but after 400 years, this whole agreement might have made him a slightly better person.

Thankfully, Beelzebub doesn't have much to say about the advent of the touchscreen smartphone,[3] other than to sigh and express hope that it's just as detrimental to humanity as Crowley keeps promising. ("Really, it'll be great," Crowley insists gleefully, "and just wait until we add autocorrect into the mix!") And so Crowley is back in London in no time at all, eager to see what Aziraphale has done with his assignment.

 _Surely not porn_ , Crowley thinks to himself, hurtling through the City in his Bentley at a teeth-rattling speed. _Not Aziraphale. Nor manifestos of political extremism, that's also probably a touch too terrible for an angel like him. Gambling? Cake, maybe; although Aziraphale loves cake and scorns diets, wouldn't understand why linking to dessert blogs would be so upsettingly tempting for so many people..._

The radio of Crowley's Bentley sputters from "Another One Bites the Dust" to Ligur's snarl.

"Croooooowleeeeeey..."

"Missing me already?" Crowley replies.

"Calling about your recent cyber temptation," Hastur sneers. "It seems... off."

"Head Office is expecting you to explain it," Ligur gloats.

"Yeah, guys? I'll write up a full report or something, just, let me get off the road first, I keep on nearly discorporating myself," Crowley shouts at the radio, before turning it off. (Were Aziraphale there, he would attest that this excuse isn't a lie whatsoever.)

"Hey, angel!" Crowley calls, screeching into a parking space that miraculously widens for his Bentley, and slamming the door loudly.

Aziraphale turns round at his front door with a look of delight.

"Crowley! My goodness, you're back so soon!"

"Lucky escape." Crowley leans against the doorframe of the bookshop and bows his head towards Aziraphale's ear as the angel unlocks the door. "Listen, Head Office is asking me for a report on the latest temptation. Fill me in on what you've done?"

"Oh!" Aziraphale's eyes go wide. "Yes, of course."

Crowley whips out his smartphone—he's gotten one in advance of the game, one of the perks of being a master tempter—and hands it to Aziraphale as they sit down side by side on the couch.

"Right," says Aziraphale, clearing his throat as he takes the phone gingerly. "Let me see..."

Crowley barely conceals a smile as the angel puzzles through the mobile's workings, then triumphantly pulls up a webpage and hands the phone to Crowley, looking very pleased with himself. The demon, mystified, takes it and taps on the first link on the page.

_NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP_  
_NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN_  
_NEVER GONNA RUN AROUND AND DESERT YOOOOOOOU..._

It's definitely the last thing that Crowley ever expected. And it's blindingly clear why Hastur and Ligur and the rest of Downstairs are so bloody confused.

It also happens to be one of the most startlingly brilliant things Crowley has ever seen.

"I thought, what's something that's both madness-inducing and also inescapable once encountered?" Aziraphale explains. "And then I thought, that thing you came up with, those jingles that get stuck in your head, what do they call them..."

"Earworms," Crowley replies, still somewhat in a state of awed shock.

"Dear me," replies Aziraphale, wrinkling his nose slightly at the term. "Yes. Those. Anyway, someone was playing this loudly on a stereo when I was walking through St James's Park, and so I thought..."

Crowley turns to the angel, unable to say anything for a moment. Dear, dear Aziraphale, sitting primly next to him with his hands folded, puffed up just a tiny bit with pride at his own cleverness. The darling fellow wouldn't know actual temptation if it seized him by his saintly bow tie.

"Oh dear," stammers Aziraphale, his pleased expression faltering as he notes Crowley's speechlessness. "I hope I haven't let you down?"

Crowley's face breaks into the most ridiculous smile imaginable.

"Never," he promises, and means it.

* * *

[1] Aziraphale, like almost all angels, is quite a Luddite. In fact, the only angel at all up-to-date on technology is Michael, who—mortified at succumbing so easily to temptation—nevertheless vigorously denies upgrading to every new model that hits the market. Gabriel, on the other hand, loves the way the fancy new mobiles look, but isn't actually sure how to do anything other than place calls on them.

[2] "That bloody book" was _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ , released in July 2007.

[3] The original iPhone debuted in late June 2007, a few weeks before _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ was released. Crowley would get much credit for the mayhem surrounding the midnight lines for both.

**Author's Note:**

> And, by the way, the Wikipedia article on the phenomenon of rickrolling is an utter delight to read, if you ever need something oddly sweet to brighten up your day.


End file.
